Harry Potter and teh Sparkly Hufflepuff
by kmfrank
Summary: What started as DLP being our typical internet tough guy selves on some new member's terribad story about some wolves no one gives a f*ck about has turned into a legendary crackfic.
1. Chapter 1

This started out as a joke that some members of DLP played on a new member – 4R4W. We didn't quite appreciate his story, so some of us wrote…interesting continuations of it. Things went on, and here's what we came up with.

If you enjoy this, please visit the DLP C2 for some great stories (not all of them humor, but all of them well-written, putting this drivel to shame, I'm sure :P). You can find the C2 here at www. fanfiction .net/community/DLP_5_Starred_and_Featured_Authors/84507/

Please join, and visit DLP for a great community of fantastic authors in all our (sometimes brutal, cranky, and ornery) glory.

Contributors (not all of them featured here, but I tried for cohesion as much as possible with something like this…) include: CareOtters (whose idea this whole thing was), IdSayWhyNot, Palindrome, myself kmfrank, and Swimdraconian (who came up with the magnificent title).

_**Harry Potter and teh Sparkly Hufflepuff**_

Running on the ground: beautiful. The moist grass underneath his paws felt golden. The smells of autumn drove him mad. He ran toward the mountains on the horizon. The light of the early morning illuminated the wolf's path through the Forbidden Forest, toward Hogwarts. Taking a lungful of air, he let out a howl as he raced across the mud and the snapped twigs, with his jaw protruded as if he was on a Hunt. He jumped upward, his flight driven by the enormous lean power of his hindlegs.

The landing hurt his knees with pressure. Suddenly collapsing, gasping air like a drowning cub, he moaned, a low growl that silenced nearby twittering birds. He blinked, as morning sunlight burned his eyes. Blinked again, the dryness of eyelid and flesh motion felt sandy. He thought of the beach.

He had bred on the beach of Longshore Islands, back when he was a cub maturing into Wolfhood. The rite of passage: finding a bitch to fuck. He went with two packmates of his age, the adventurious trio. He had the sleekest fur, and the strongest leaps. His teeth were the sharpest, and his speed unmatched.

Montana and Zulf were also tough and strong, but their line was secondary: his father was the pack leader. They had gone through a forest similar to the Forbidden Forest, but not as potent.

He could smell the magic wafting his nose, the waves of light and energy spreading as it entered his nostrils, filling his mind with peace, serenity. 'Where art thou, my love,' he thought, thinking of the mate he had found at Longshore beach. She was beautiful, a lovely imagerie he could still remember, from the aroma of the ring of white fur around her neck, hanging like a necklace, to the sleek black mane coating her body and her sharp black eyes that pierced his soul the way her canines could pierce the toughest of deer hides.

A whisper called from a dark unknown place. 'I am coming, please, try to conserve your energy. You are not strong enough to hunt, not... not now.'

He listened. The voice faided to silence. His perked ears drooped as he continued absorb his surroundings.

There was nobody here except a black adder sleeping in a grove at the base of a tree trunk. She was digesting a big meal, the wolf deduced from the scent of snake juice. Flaring his nose, eyes wider, he tried to stand.

He could not. His legs were shaking.

All energy fled his body. He fell but was unconscious before he hit the hardness of packed mud.

Water trickled down his muzzle, the wetness slid across his eyebrows. Saliva, warm, soft, and familiar hit his snot, the scent engaged his heart to faster, harder beasts. Delerium of sickness started to receede in the background as he opened his eyes to meet those black orbs that held the unknown, the wild. His mate had come to him, had heard his call. The evening sunlight receeding into the darkness cast a shadow on her eyes and on her ring of white fur that he so loved to snuggle against.

'How are the cubs,' he asked, his eyes flashing to the sky to gauge the time till darkness submerged them. 'They are safe, yes?'

'Jeehas has taken wound. A green sickness grows inside of him. I fear he will die soon.' Her orbs sank into a lake of tears. She turned away from him.

"Sasha," he called, but she wandered off and he was too tired to follow her. He sank back down in the mud, and thought of those who invaded his lands, his territories. Those wizards, who would if they could enslave the Wolven race, used sticks to hit them with jets of hot light... that did things. Magic in an inferior race was a bitter fruit to swallow.

But the Pack prevailed. They always did, because their magic was far stronger, far more potent than the wizarding mankind.

Or so they had thought.

(written by **4R4W**)


	2. Chapter 2

The wolf's ears perked up as he heard a faint noise in the background.

"I can't believe that oaf would make us wade through up to our ankles in this bloody forest!" A pompous, manicured voice complained.

The animal's heart quickened; looking to his partner, he found Sasha exchange a wolfy look with him, concerned. The two wolves pressed themselves into the undergrowth, fighting not to be seen. Who knew what terrible danger these humans would hold?

"Shut up Malfoy." another grumbled.

"I swear as soon as I get out of this-" the young human kicked some dirt into the air, unsettling the thick mush of fallen leaves that lined the forest floor and scattering some insects. "I will write home to father - I'll - I'll have that oaf Hagrid _suspended!"_

"Yes, Malfoy. You've told me. Repeatedly." They were getting closer - too close. Swinging closer was their silver magic lights, which cast a eerie luminescence across the entire forest, hushing the animals and ruining the two wolves night visions.

The male wolf hissed to his partner, voice low, fearful. "It's them, Sasha. The magic users!"

"We must flee!" she whispered back, hackles raised and eyes darting across the illuminated trees fretfully. "Their magic may be no match for ours, but their race is subtle and quick to anger - if we cross their kind we may not return to speak the tale."

The two wolves - who could somehow talk - scattered away from the young stick-wizards, careful not to make a sound.

The humans' voices rang out again. "Wait," one said, "what's this?"

They were too close; the wolves fell away, and in their haste and fear they did not smell it until they were upon it:

A unicorn.

It lay spreadeagled across the ground, throat ripped viciously with teeth and silvery blood slowly seeping out of the wounds and tricking into the undergrowth like some sickening stream. Its eyes were glassy, its once-immaculate coat mottled with its pure silver blood. The stench of death was heavy in the air.

In their shock, their horror at seeing one of the most beautiful and innocent creatures of the forest slain in such a brutal way, they paused.

The two wolves circled closer to the unicorn, horror coursing through them, fear tricking second.

"What foul creature could do such a thing?" he heard Sasha murmur next to him, and together they circled around the unicorns corpse, heads bowed low against its chest in mourning for the brilliant creature, in respect.

"Look - there's more blood over here!" came one of the magic humans' voices, and a rustle. The two wolves heads whipped up to find a boy, dark-haired and scruffy looking, staring at them with wide eyes.

They were frozen like that for a second, until a silvery blob of blood dribbled from the wolf's mouth. A second human appeared behind the black-haired boy, his head craning to see what his companion had frozen at, and screamed.

Everything jumped back into motion with a bang. The two wolves fled from the corpse, legs burning and chests heaving. One of the wizards raised his wand to the air and the sky was suddenly filled with an intense light, and an immense noise as the flair illuminated the sky.

There was a crash beyond the trees, a little north of where the two wolves were fleeing to, and they changed directions, hearts pounding furiously in their chests.

They'd been seen. The humans had thought they'd been the creatures that had killed the unicorn. And now they were running for their lives.

There was another crash - like a loud thumping noise, and suddenly their path was blocked by a monster.

It was easily as large as the trees themselves, towering over the wolves. Giant tufts of fur tumbled down the monster's chin and huge leather coat flapped in the wind as it turned to them, beady eyes gleaming with an inhuman rage. Beside the giant, a monstrous hellhound growled with a noise like thunder, and the giant raised its arms to level a construction of wood as heavy as a treetrunk at them and reach for the trigger.

They turned again to flee, but they were too late.

"Teach 'yeh t' kill a unicorn, 'yeh bloody wolves!" the creature howled, and Hagrid let loose a volley of arrows from his crossbow that thudded straight into the unwitting wolves' hides and tore into the two with yelps of pain.

There was only blood, and only pain, and then there was only death.

Hagrid turned to the two children. "Good work ther', lads." he called. "Wi' any luck that'd be th' last of 'em." He picked up the two wolves' corpses and slung them over his shoulder. "Now Buckbeak will appreciate a nice li'l wolf soup, I rec'on."

(written by **Palindrome**)


	3. Chapter 3

As Harry, Malfoy and Hagrid began the slow trek towards the edge of the forest, the dark clouds overhead advanced and blocked the moonlight. Darkness fell like a blanket over the forest and the absolute silence pressed against them.

Malfoy's head whipped from side to side. Harry could see the blonde bitch was trembling in fear. The night had turned cold and the wind that filtered through the thick vegetation made him shiver. Soft, previously unimportant sounds became magnified in the tense silence of the forest. The rustling of the leaves, the eerie dance of the canopies and Hagrid's farts made him and Malfoy glance around nervously.

Hagrid seemed at ease though, the dead corpses of the wolves dangling silently from side to side as he walked in great strides, a satisfied smile on his face and his black eyes glittering under the lights of their wands. Harry noticed the path they were following was different. He couldn't precisely pin-point what made it so, but there was something strange, something unfamiliar about it.

They came to a stop when they reached a clearing, one they had definitely not encountered before. The thick, brown barks vanished and only vivid green grass grew inside the wide circle.

Hagrid motioned for them to stay quiet. Malfoy looked with panic at Harry, who rolled his eyes. They put out their wands and stared at the strange sight that met them.

There was a man and a woman in the clearing, their backs against the grass and hands crossed behind their heads. They were staring at the stars in silence. The man was very pale, had brown hair and a blissful smile on his face. He was oddly handsome, and Harry thought he'd seen him before. The woman was rather unremarkable, with her long, black hair, thin and flat body, and the pasty complexion of her skin.

"Is - is he sparkling?" Malfoy whispered. Harry thought he detected a hint of jealousy in his tone. "There, look. See how the moonlight falls on his skin? I swear he's shining or something."

Harry pushed up his glasses as they hid behind the trees and looked closely at them. Both strangers had their eyes closed. The clouds cleared for a moment and when the light fell on them, Harry saw what Malfoy meant.

"He's right," he whispered, surprised. "That guy is sparkling. Do you think they're wizards, too, Hagrid?"

The half-giant was absent-mindedly stroking the fur of the dead wolves with a smile on his face. "Aye, yer a wizard, 'Arry, an' a thumpin' good on' at tha'"

"What the hell is wrong with him?" Malfoy asked, genuinely scared of Hagrid's lunacy.

Harry waved his hand dismissively. "He's always like that," he said as he stared at the strangers. "He'll either say I'm a good wizard or that Dumbledore's a great man. Nice guy, really, but don't expect too much of him."

Malfoy nodded seriously. He already had his suspicions about the half-giant's intelligence.

"Listen," Harry urged.

The pale man lazily stretched his body and put an arm around the ugly woman. Harry couldn't understand why a handsome man like him would settle for the most unremarkable woman he'd ever come across. Even Professor Sprout had something of interest if you liked the way drops of sweat trickled down the valley of her wobbly breasts while she planted Mandragoras.

This woman seemed quite pleased with the turn of events, and snuggled against his side as they stared at the now star-filled sky.

"Marry me, Bella," the man said in a sultry, low voice.

The woman named Bella sighed exasperatedly. Malfoy made retching noises behind Hagrid's back as he and Harry stared.

"Not this again," she said. "You promised you'd turn me before bringing marriage up again."

Malfoy and Harry stared at each other. They shrugged and turned to look at Hagrid. But the half-giant wasn't really paying attention, and Harry noticed one of his thick fingers seemed to be sticking inside the wolf's dead corpse. He sighed. At least Hagrid could always be counted upon to act like himself.

"Stop fingering that wolf, Hagrid," Harry said tiredly, his tone suggesting he'd had the argument before. Hagrid gave him a toothy grin and sucked his index finger delightedly. "Good. Now put the corpses down and help me figure out what the hell these two are."

Hagrid shrugged, grabbed the dead bodies more firmly and ambled away. Harry saw him sit down against a tree bark and resume his prodding of the dead wolves. He shook his head resignedly and motioned for Malfoy to follow him.

It didn't take much to convince the blonde. His face had acquired an unhealthy shade of green, though whether because of Hagrid's habits or the strange couple's argument, Harry could not tell. They stealthily tip-toed to the other side of the clearing, from where they could see these strange folk with American accents more clearly.

"You don't know what you're asking for," Edward was saying, his face blank. Harry noticed his eyes were of a very pale amber. They seemed to glow in the dark. "To kill you, to destroy your soul... I could never do that. I love you too much."

Malfoy elbowed Harry and mouthed, "_Vampire?_" Harry shrugged.

"Is that why you refuse?" she pressed on. "It doesn't make any sense, Edward. I love you, too. I want to be with you forever, and there's only one way for us to be together. This can't go on. Not like this." She leaned closer to him and very softly kissed his too-red lips. Then, in a pleading voice she whispered, "Tell me the real reason, Eddy-poo."

Malfoy held Harry's hair while he threw up. As he painted the muddy ground in yellow he missed the touched and jealous look on Malfoy's face.

Edward caressed Bella's cheek and said, "You're like my own personal brand of heroin. To turn you would be to destroy the real you, the Bella I fell in love with."

The ridiculous argument carried on for a while. Before they knew it, Harry and Draco were sitting on conjured chairs, their feet supported on low tree branches and their hands crossed behind their heads. Harry tried and tried to think of why the man named Edward looked familiar. As the argument turned more and more ridiculous it occurred to him that perhaps he was imagining things. He was pretty sure he'd remember meeting people this stupid.

Suddenly the peaceful moment was broken by Edward, who sat up unnaturally quickly and seemed to sniff the air in their direction. Malfoy looked with terror-filled eyes at Harry. "The smell," he whispered. "Vampires have very good smell."

Harry was about to say something but he felt a presence in front of him. He looked away from Draco and came face to face with the pale man, Edward. The vampire's mouth barred into a snarl and his long fangs came out, protruding over his lower lip and dripping with saliva.

Harry's heart was beating furiously. Malfoy shrieked and fell backwards on his chair. On all fours he dragged himself away in panic, aiming to go as far as he could from those white fangs.

Bella came bustling into the trees, her white dress trailing behind. She stopped when she saw Edward had company, and that he was leaning very close to Harry. But while Harry was paralyzed in place, Bella knew Edward would never hurt anybody. She recognized her boyfriend's relaxed stance and simply held back and watched.

Edward's nose was inches away from Harry's, and he could smell the vampire's minty breath on his face. His amber eyes were open very wide, and Edward spoke in a very low and intense voice.

"Do I dazzle you?"

(written by **IdSayWhyNot**)


	4. Chapter 4

Without warning to the vampire in front of him, Harry broke out of his fake stupor and rabbit punched Edward in the side of the neck.

Despite Harry only being a half-starved 11-year old, the vampire fell like bitch, and, lying on the ground, stared wide eyed at Harry; he had forgotten that unlike Muggles, wizards - even half trained schoolboys - were mostly immune to a vampire's gaze.

With a calm snap of his fingers, Harry remembered who the vampire reminded him of.

"Diggory." He said with a smirk, turning to Malfoy. The ponce of a blonde had a look of horror on his face as he glanced between the fallen vampire and his nemesis.

"Cedric Diggory, right Malfoy? He's a Hufflepuff...third or fourth year, I think. Really good at Transfiguration, popular guy - you know who I'm talking about?" Harry asked, paying the fallen vampire no heed. The girl, Bella, Harry thought he remembered her being called, had immediately run to the side of her 'Eddy-poo' and was cradling his head.

"Eddy-poo? Talk to me! TALK TO ME EDWARD OH MY GOD!" Harry looked oddly at her until she turned to him, eyes blazing with fury at the boy.

"_Petrificus Totalus_," he intoned. The girl went stiff as a board and fell to the ground next to Edward. Tears shone in her eyes; Harry went up next to her and patted her head like an ignorant puppy.

"Don't worry, crazy Muggle lady. That vampire's mind control will wear off soon enough." He turned to Draco, who was still whimpering as he looked at Potter.

Harry sighed slightly - why he was ever afraid of dueling Malfoy, he had no clue. "Come on Draco, they taught us how to kill vampires in, like, the second week of Defense Against the Dark Arts. Right after the Flame-Freezing Charm to protect us from Muggle witch-burnings. And honestly those are more dangerous, in my opinion."

Harry ushered Malfoy forward, and pointed his wand at the still form of the vampire, whose wildly moving eyes were the only sign that he was still alive. Well...sort of alive, at any rate.

"What was that incantation? Oh yeah, _Telum Caudeum_, I think..." Harry said. Malfoy nodded and steeled his nerve, raising his wand to join Harry's, pointed at the vampire.

(written by **kmfrank**)


	5. Chapter 5

The vampire was twitching on the ground like a drowned puppy.

"Ready?" Harry murmured, all attention fixed on the monster before him. If it recovered too soon, they would need to act fast. Draco nodded beside him. "Okay. Three... two-"

Suddenly Draco swivelled towards him. Before Harry could even question him, the git bared his teeth in a mocking smirk and light erupted from his wand.

_"Petrificus Totalus!"_ he cried. Harry recoiled in shock, but wasn't fast enough to avoid the red beam hurtling towards his chest.

"Malfoy you little bitch-" was all he managed to say before his limbs stiffened and he fell to the ground like a sack of potatos.

He struggled against his frozen body for a second, catching Malfoy's shit-eating grin as the bastard stood over him. The fucker looked like christmas had just come early.

"Why did I do it, Potter?" He accentuated his rhetorical question with the kind of superior smugness that made Harry want to sock him in the mouth. "It's quite simple, you see... it's all for _hair."_

If he could, Harry would have raised his eyebrow. As it was, he had to settle for an indignant eye twitch. Beside him, the vampire spasmed softly.

"Yes Potter, the hair. You see, the Malfoy line has kept a terrible secret for centuries..." He ran a hand through his smooth slick hair, almost caressingly. "The terrible things one has to do to attain _perfection_... Blond is not our natural hair colour, Potter."

Where the hell was Hagrid? God damn it, he didn't want to put up with this shit longer than he had to.

"But with the power of a _vampire_ on our side - a real vampire, Potter, a vampire that _sparkles_ - the Malfoy line can once again be _fabulous!"_

Malfoy turned away from Harry, leaving him spreadeagled on the wet grass like a picnic blanket. The little shit helped the vampire to sit up, mumbling 'ennervate' at his twitching form, for all the good it did. He slipped his school shirt down from his shoulders, leaning into the vampire, breathing heavily.

Harry tried to gag, even frozen in place as he was. It honestly looked like Malfoy was _enjoying_ himself.

"Bite me," the boy whispered breathily, grinding up against the sparkly creature. "Bite me you stud!"

The vampire mumbled something.

"What?" questioned Malfoy, pausing momentarily.

"Say it." Edward repeated.

"Er," he blinked. "Say what?"

"Say it!"

"Um. Vampire?"

Edward gave an incoherent moan of pleasure. "Again."

"Vampire."

"Again!"

"Vampire!"

Harry briefly wondered if he'd drown if he threw up while frozen.

"Bite me!" Draco cried. "Give me your delicious _hair!"_

The vampire, still half-dazed and apparently vaguely horny if the dirty talk was anything to go by, did as commanded and bit down hard on Malfoy's scrawny neck. The blond boy recoiled from him with a shriek, hands clutching to his now profusely bleeding neck, eyes wide and face drained of all colour. He gave a pathetic little whimper and crumpled into a foetal position on the ground, screaming in pain through clenched teeth.

"'Arry!" came a thunderous shout, and Harry's eyes twitched upward to see Hagrid once again as the man apparently stopped fondling wolf corpses enough to take note of what was happening. The giant hefted the dead animals into his arms with the ease of a man picking up a puppy, and taking them by the tails, one in each hand, he swung them around his head like nunchucks.

Hagrid issued a ferocious battlecry and hurtled one of the wolves at Edward's twitching form. It rammed the vampire to the floor like a bowling ball scattering pins, and there was a sickening crunch from the wolf corpse as it snapped cleanly in two around the sparkly monster's head, spraying the girl beside them with viscous canine blood.

As Malfoy dodged the spray of gore the hold on Harry abruptly ceased, and he sprang up as fast as possible, catching Draco with a roundhouse kick to the head as the swarmy little git tried to scramble away.

"Tha' was a thumpin' good one, 'Arry!" cheered Hagrid, and the other wolf in his hand slumped to the floor as its tail came out of the socket. The giant didn't seem to notice this, still spinning the severed tail around in the air like a ribbon.

Malfoy took the hit on the head with a loud pig-like squeal of pain, but did not collapse, and before Harry could grab him the bitch was already on his feet and scrambling for his life back into the forbidden forest.

Harry paused, breathing hard from the exertion of leaping up so quickly. Malfoy scuttled off to disappear into the forest and Harry vaguely wondered how long it would take him to be eaten.

"That _was_ a pretty damn thumping good one, yes, Hagrid." he agreed placidly as he looked towards where Malfoy had disappeared. "I mean did you hear how he screamed? He sounds like a girl."

And meanwhile in the forest, Voldemort stirred, his wraith-like form bent low over the corpse of a unicorn. He would gain a new follower that night.

(written by **Palindrome**)


	6. Chapter 6

_Previously on Harry Potter and teh Sparkling Hufflepuff Faggot..._

_Harry rabbit-punched Edward, who was later harassed by a hair-image-caring Draco Malfoy, claiming only a true vampire's sexiness could fix his gene pool. Hagrid then comes to save the day, wielding a fiery weapon: two dead wolves. Like nunchakus he flung them around until Edward was knocked unconscious and Malfoy fled, and all was well._

_But Bella – what about Bella? Shut the fuck up, nobody gives a crap about her._

Harry stared at the unconscious forms of Edward and Bella. He was trying to decide what to do with them. Dragging them back to the castle wasn't an option. Dumbledore would freak out, he was sure. Perhaps he could leave them here. It was somewhat cold, uncaring. What if Snape were to find them?

He shuddered. No one, not even a homosexual vampire who thought he dazzled everyone deserved Severus Snape's greasy, cum-smelling cock. He shuddered again.

"What do you think, Hagrid?" Harry asked. The half-giant looked at him with a kind smile on his face. "About these two, I mean. Should we take them to the castle, let Dumbledore sort them out?"

"Great man, Dumbledore," Hagrid said seriously. "Bes' Headmaster Hogwarts' ever had, I tell ye."

Harry rolled his eyes. If Hagrid refused to share his thoughts, then he'd call the shots.

In the end they left Edward and Bella tied to a tree around their waists, hands cuffed behind their backs. To make things a little more interesting Harry charmed the clearing to light up under detection charms, so that creepy fuckers who came looking for potions ingredients would be drawn towards the place. Harry had changed his mind; Snape and Edward deserved each other.

And Bella... Well, nobody cared about Bella.

They once again tackled the path that would lead them towards the edge of the Forbidden Forest. The thick canopies of the trees blocked the moonlight, and Harry was forced to illuminate the way with his wand. Hagrid stubbornly clung to his precious loot. He carried a dead wolf over one shoulder and two pieces of another in his arms.

"What are you going to do with those?" Harry asked.

"Underwear an' soup, 'course."

"Underwear and soup," Harry repeated thoughtfully. "It could be worse, I suppose."

From the lines of trees that flanked the narrow path they heard a rustling of dead leaves. A twig crunched under the weight of some animal. Harry and Hagrid froze, the latter clutching his loot protectively to his chest, as if afraid the animal would try to steal it.

Harry prayed and prayed that whatever would come out of the trees would be just an animal, just a common thing to be found in forests. This night had seen enough weird shit. He hungered for a teenage dragon, perhaps a ravenous Acromantula; normal things. The rustling sounds were evidence of an animal of some kind, and when a large wolf jumped a few feet in front of them Harry thought his wish had come true.

The large, brown wolf sniffed the air in their direction. Hagrid growled in an annoyed fashion and licked his loot as thoroughly as he could, thinking nobody would think of the dead wolves as food if someone had staked a claim in such fashion beforehand.

Harry saw the moment the wolf – the one that looked angry and oddly intelligent, and was very much alive – spotted his dead comrades. It let out an inhuman howl and stalked closer. Harry raised his wand threateningly but the potential doom a short twig could bring down on it was lost on the creature.

But instead of charging ahead and trying to rip them to pieces, the wolf stopped and sat on its hind legs. Suddenly it morphed, and in the wolf's place there was a young man. He was only wearing faded, blue shorts and had a very muscular frame. His skin was tanned from being out in the sun and he had a 24-pack that rippled powerfully in his tense stance.

"Hot!Teenwolf, Gay!Lonewolf!" he cried in anguish. His eyes narrowed and his sexy biceps bulged. "What have you done to them? Answer me!"

Harry stared incredulously at the young man. At least this sudden occurrence wasn't that far off from the usual. While Animagi were rare, they weren't unheard of either. That this man thought Hagrid's prizes were his friends or acquaintances was a little disturbing, but nothing compared to what he'd seen that night.

"Err, yeah... They were dead when we found them," Harry lied. He lowered his wand. "They're just wolves, you know. I'm sure you can find yourself a human girlfriend or something."

"They're my friends, my pack! You killed the sole defence the world has against the Cold Ones!"

Harry looked sideways at Hagrid and back at the Animagus. He could feel his IQ dropping the more the man spoke. His accent suggested he was American, too. Perhaps he could be persuaded into looking for Edward, so that he and Hagrid could finally get the fuck out of this place. Harry was sure Bella wasn't important to this shape-shifter.

"What's your name?" Harry asked politely.

"I'm Jacob!" the man said manly.

"Right, Jacob. So listen, there's a vampire back there, tied to a tree. You could go see if he knows what happened to these wolves. We found him killing them, but it was too late to stop him."

"Cullen?" he hissed.

"Err, no. I'm Harry." Jacob gave him a blank look. "Hey, can you at least wear a shirt or something?"

Jacob shook his head, displaying two rows of huge, white teeth, which seemed to glow in the dark. "Can't do it. My contract says I have to be partially naked for at least an hour. The team and all that."

"Yeah, whatever you say." Harry peered at him intently. "You're employed by the Ministry, Jacob?" he guessed. While his attire didn't suggest he was anything but a hobo, the overall intelligence displayed screamed of pureblood. "I thought wizards rarely entered this forest."

"What – wizard? You're a wizard?"

"Yes," Harry said slowly. "I'm a wizard."

"An' a thumpin' good on' at tha'," Hagrid put in.

"Shut up, Hagrid."

Before the strange conversation could go any further, several things happened at once.

A blond bitch Harry correctly identified as Malfoy stormed into the clearing. He was clutching his wand in his hand and seemed to be back to normal. His arms weren't shaking anymore and his skin seemed to sparkle under the moonlight. He was no longer Draco Malfoy, scion of the pureblood Malfoy line. He was now Drakey-poo, sparkling faggot.

From above descended a dark figure, clad in black robes and black boots. He was oddly pale too, and in hand carried a very long, dark wand. Harry's scar threatened to split his head in half. Through the pain he noticed the new arrival had a black aura about him. Everything about him was dark. And black. And generally without light.

As Harry went down on his knees, clutching his pounding head in his hands, he felt Hagrid tense beside him. An argument started between Jacob, Drakey-poo, the dark figure and the half-giant, who still insisted the dead wolves belonged to him.

But just when Harry thought things couldn't get any worse, a white blur went past him, heading towards Jacob. He saw it was Edward, free of his binds. The vampire stopped half-way between Jacob and Malfoy, who stood with his wand raised next to the dark figure. Edward looked back and forth.

"You!" he pointed an accusing finger at the dark figure. "I know you!"

The dark figure stalked forward, black robe billowing near the ground. There were a pair of very bright red eyes that shone from inside his hood. Everything seemed to shine this night.

The new arrival stared fixedly at Edward, and out of the black – err, blue – drew his wand.

"Diggory!" he hissed in a high-pitched voice. "You're alive? How the Devil are you still alive?"

"Voldemort! Not again!" Edward cried, a note of panic in his voice.

"Cullen!" Jacob roared manly, pushing his chest out. "Where's my Bella! What have you done to her? She loves me. She just doesn't know it yet."

"Nobody cares about that whore!" Malfoy shrieked, pale skin sparkling like Edward's. His head snapped to the side and silver, homosexual eyes settled on Harry. "Potter!"

"Is tha' Malfoy?" Hagrid bellowed.

Harry looked around. They had come to a stand-still. At his side Hagrid was silent, and in the silence that followed he thought he caught a sad look on the half-giant's face. He understood what was missing.

"Hagrid!" Harry cried dramatically. "Am I really a wizard?"

The half-giant grinned and slung the dead Hot!Teenwolf and Gay!Lonewolf over his shoulder. "Aye, yer a wizard, 'Arry. An' a thumpin' good on' at tha'."

Tension was thick in the air. All it would take was one move out of place, one false step or biting comment and the battle would begin. There were many enemies and few allies. Harry at least knew he could count on Hagrid's poisonous farts and odd proficiency with wolf-nunchakus.

There would be many things to worry about in the oncoming chaos. Edward could try to dazzle his enemies with a smile and a sultry, lulling voice. Draco, heedless of the danger, could expose his pale, sparkling body to Harry in an attempt to distract him, a move that would capture Edward's loving affections.

Jacob had already taken off his shirt, so there wasn't much more he could do. And Voldemort was the most dangerous of all, because he was dark. And wearing black. And generally was without light.

Harry fingered the Holly wand, his palms sweaty and head pounding fiercely. He felt more than saw Hagrid getting ready, scrunching his face up in concentration, ready to fire. His face was slowly turning red from the effort. Everyone stood still and silent, waiting for something to set off the sparkling festivities.

Our heterosexual hero saw Malfoy's hand unbuckling his belt; Harry raised his wand; Voldemort raised his; Jacob looked around for his shirt; Edward asked Harry if he was dazzled by him; and Hagrid's farts rented the night in half.

The battle began.

(Written by **IdSayWhyNot**)


	7. Chapter 7

_(In the Avatar: The Last Airbender intro voice)_

_Previously, on HPSH (pronounced Hipshit)..._

_Voldemort, a fucked up wraith thing, appeared randomly in the forest as a showdown between a faggy vampire, another, more recently turned faggy vampire, a werewolf with an inability to wear a shirt, a half-giant with an inability to think complex thoughts, and a burgeoning wizard who knows only a handful of spells, since he just started magic school._

_Clusterfuck? Raptor Jesus knows we all think so..._

Edward bared his fangs menacingly at Jacob, whose abs rippled in defiance. Drakey-poo, his belt ripped off in a move worthy of a denizen of the Red Light District of Amsterdam, leered at the shirtless werewolf.

Harry eyed the exchange in thinly veiled disgust.

"Umm...aren't you going to do more than fucking hiss at each other? Christ, I can't believe I thought vampires were sort of cool, when Quirrell talked about them earlier this year." Harry said condescendingly.

"Shut up, Potter, you don't deserve to talk to us! Hisss..." Harry looked incredulously at his one-time nemesis.

"Did you seriously just say 'hiss'? You can't even hiss properly. You know what, I may be a pitiful wizard who only knows like three spells, but _Petrificus Totalus_." Harry said, whipping his wand at Drakey-poo, who immediately - since he was now a vampire and therefore without any sort of useful skills, abilities, or capabilities - snapped his feet together and hands at his side, falling forward onto his face.

"Mno! Mnot my mface!" He mumbled with a girlish shriek. As the vampire hissed at the ab-flexing werewolf and Hagrid sort of oozed in a cloud of fart gas and Voldemort oozed in a cloud of shadow gas, Harry just walked over to the prone ponce and kicked him in the ribs. He'd learned from Harry Hunting that that shit hurt.

"Oi, Hagrid, reckon you can turn one of those fags into a pig like you tried to do with Dudley?" He called out, hoping to end the faggotry quickly.

"Aye, 'Arry, yer a wizard an' a thumpin' good 'un, too!" He said with a big grin, flourishing his umbrella. With a poke at Jacob, the werewolf, still busy flexing his abs and glaring at the hissing vampire, sported a new pigs tail.

Harry sighed in exasperation. "Of course not. Should have known better, I guess." He said to himself under his breath.

"Okay, Voldemort spirit thing, what's your bag?" Harry said, turning to the wraith.

The wraith merely turned to the alive Diggory, red eyes widening in wonder at how the boy still lived - even though he hadn't actually killed him yet, but let's not bother with continuity.

"Diggory!" His high voice demanded. "You have found the secret to immortality! Give it to me now!"

Edward, a signature clueless grin now on his face as he smiled at the red-eyed wraith - though Harry had no clue why - stopped hissing at his werewolf nemesis and turned to Voldemort.

"Hagrid, don't you have a freaking crossbow? Shoot the werewolf!" Harry said, interrupting the sparkly vampire and the wraith Voldemort, who both eyed him as though he was doing something rude.

"O' Course, 'Arry, yer -" The half-giant began.

"Yeah yeah, a thumping good wizard, and Dumbledore's a great man, I know." Hagrid beamed at Harry.

Touching a hand to his temple to stave off a migraine brought on by gross incompetence, he gestured toward the werewolf as though he himself were holding a crossbow, then stuck his tongue out and put his hands around his neck as though he was dead, hoping Hagrid would understand the simple gestures better than words.

"Righ'!" The half-giant said. He let loose with the crossbow bolt, which hit Jacob in the gut, the only reasonable target on him.

Jacob's abs, despite frequent description by rabid fangirls, were nowhere near as hard as steel, and the bolt went through them like...a crossbow bolt through flesh...and the werewolf hit the ground, curled up in the fetal position. With the angle Hagrid had hit him, Harry thought the crossbow bolt likely hit his spine, too.

"Great shot Hagrid, good to know you're good at _something_...even if archery isn't generally the most useful skill." Harry added the last part under his breath - even if Hagrid didn't understand, Harry knew it was fairly rude to make fun of retarded people to their face.

"Come, Edward - grant me the immortality I seek!" Edward and the wraith were close, now, and Edward's lips were puckered as though he were going to kiss Voldemort.

"Oh hell bloody no! There's _no_ way I'm letting Fag-demort happen. _Petrificus Totalus_." Harry said, intoning his favorite new spell at the vampire, who once more dropped like a bitch, arms snapped to his side. Unfortunately he landed face up, and Voldemort attempted to take advantage of the situation - the misty wraith oozed onto Edward's still form, enveloping it.

"You should not have come here tonight, Tom." With a slight gust of wind, Albus Dumbledore, resplendent in purple robes trimmed in lavender and pink - which rippled in the slight breeze that had suddenly come out of nowhere - pointed his wand at the wraith. With a bang, the wraith was pulled off of the vampire; Edward's face shone in the moonlight.

"Thank Merlin, a wizard with more than half a term's worth of magic! Short of turning some bloody pine needles into silver needles, I don't know that I'll be much use here." Harry exclaimed happily, apparently ignorant that he would not, in fact, learn any more transfiguration while at Hogwarts, despite years of classes and doing quite well on his O.W.L.s.

"Grea' man, Dumbledore!" Hagrid agreed. Harry rolled his eyes. The werewolf, abs rippling as he rose from the ground, staggered toward Harry and Hagrid. Not relying on Hagrid's powers of observation, Harry was quite uncertain what to do, short of a Full Body Bind Curse, but he'd used that about a dozen times already and was nearly growing bored with it, despite its obvious usefulness.

With a glance, he saw his chance in the form of the wooden crossbow bolt in the werewolf's gut. It would be more difficult than turning a match into a silver needle. Indeed, the boy didn't know that it would be more transfiguration than would be accomplished throughout his entire N.E.W.T. years at Hogwarts, likely because the author's imagination didn't expand far enough to actually develop the limits of the branch of magic she threw out in the first book. Harry didn't let that ignorance deter him, however, and concentrated fiercely as he waved his wand at the wooden crossbow and intoned the transfiguration incantation.

Jacob stopped suddenly, eyeing the now silver crossbow bolt in his stomach. Silver-red lines ran away in every direction from the wound as the poison leeched its way into his system - it seemed that not even his potent abs could save him now. He fell back down in a limp heap as the silver stole his strength and he, too, became a bitch like a vampire.

"NO! EDWAAAARRDD! Oh, Jacob? I, like, didn't know you were here." The incoherently screaming Bella, somehow - and Harry suspected powers of authorial self-insertion to be at work here - freed from the tree she was chained to, instantly became demure and uncaring when she saw the dying werewolf.

"Fine, don't talk to me, that's cool, whatever." She said as he didn't respond; obviously attempting to walk to impress the fallen werewolf - and not realizing that his imminent death was more important than some psychotic authorial self-insertion of a love interest - but failing and merely looking ridiculous.

"Oh for the love of - _Locomotor Mortis_!" Harry said angrily. Bella tripped and fell forward awkwardly as her feet and legs snapped together, landing on her face and rolling forward ass over end, landing face up.

"Oww! What the hell -"

"_Petrificus Totalus_. I mostly just wanted to see you trip, crazy bitch." Harry said with a smile.

Instead of Dumbledore focusing on Voldemort as he expected, he saw that the old Headmaster was looking creepily at Edward, whose face was still sparkling and twinkling in the moonlight.

And for the first time, he also noticed that Dumbledore had a pedostache along with his beard. Harry knew this disaster needed to be averted, so he grabbed one of the dead wolves that Hagrid was carrying and, struggling slightly, dragged it to cover up the vampire's face. He secretly hoped Edward would suffocate now, but had no idea if vampires even breathed.

"Hey, you old poofter, Voldemort - you know, evil wizard, killed my parents, RIGHT THERE!" Harry said, pointing at the red-eyed wraith. Since it had done nothing as of yet, Harry suspected the wraith to be fairly impotent.

"Should be a fair match, then." He said, appraising Dumbledore skeptically. Instead of a typical pointed wizard hat, the old man was wearing a beret - this was not a good sign.

"Oh, right. You should not have come here tonight, Tom." Dumbledore repeated ominously.

"Shocking, I haven't missed anything." Harry muttered, unsurprised. With a sigh, Harry took a seat next to - and behind, though the smell was gut-wrenching - Hagrid, who had begun stripping the pelt off the remaining wolf in his hand.

"Your powers are weak, old man." Voldemort the wraith spat in his high voice.

Wishing he knew how to conjure up some popcorn, and instead satisfying himself that, despite only a semester of magical education, he managed to do more damage in a fight than any other wizard he'd ever seen or heard of - though this may have had more to do with his ignorance about such things than any prodigious skill.

Besides, he thought gloomily, with his luck a meeting of such legendary foes would be nothing _more_ than the lines 'You shouldn't have come here tonight, Tom.' and 'Your powers are weak old man.'

(written by **kmfrank**)


	8. Chapter 8

Pausing, Harry took in the scene: Voldemort's wraith-like form stretched like a cloud across the dark night, tendrils of blackness enveloping the ground. His head still pounded from the proximity to the Dark Lord, even with the man's diminished form.

Across from him stood Dumbledore, tall and proud, cloak still billowing in the wind. Jacob writhed on the floor, veins black with the contamination of silver. Edward the vampire was buried under several pounds of wolf fur, and Dracy-poo the sparkling faggot was stiff as a board on the ground. He didn't look for Bella because honestly, who the fuck cares about her anyway?

"Tom." Dumbledore intoned gravely. "It is not too late for you, my boy."

Voldemort gave an audacious shrill cackle which reverberated across the clearing. "Redemption? Choke on a pile of dicks, old man. True, I was not expecting to see you here tonight – not so soon – but even so you are too late. I have already obtained the tools necessary to see my own rebirth!"

Suddenly Voldemort's dark cloud exploded forth around them, ice-cold air whipping a maelstrom across the forest clearing. All light was briefly enveloped by the wraith and Harry ducked behind Hagrid, coughing.

Oh, God. Ew. That was disgusting.

He was _breathing in_ pieces of Voldemort.

The smoke coalesced into a thin tendril that slammed into the vampire's prone form, face still covered by the wolf corpse. The vampire lurched up as the black mist collided with him, the wolf slumping to the floor with its tongue lolling out and severed tail still slowly dribbling blood, and Edward lurched as the mist trickled up his nostrils and through his mouth, eyes rolled upwards into his head.

There was a moment of silence. Harry peered out from behind Hagrid, keeping his wand steady and pointed at the vampire's now sitting body.

Edward suddenly smirked. Under his left eye another blinked open, glowing red in the dim light of the clearing. Below that the skin stretched and contorted as if something was squirming beneath it, and another mouth twisted open beside his first mouth.

The grotesque new addition parted its pale lips to speak. "You have lost, Dumbledore." Voldemort's high voice cackled. "With this effeminate vampire body, I am one step closer to achieving _true_ immortality." Harry looked at the abomination in sickened horror.

Fucking hell. And he'd thought Edward was bad _before_ Voldemort had come along. The new additions to his face only made the vampire more horrifying - he was like a sparkly effeminate evil mutant gone wrong.

It was worse than Edward. It was worse than Voldemort.

_Edwardmort._

"_Stupefy!"_ he yelled from his spot behind Hagrid, his voice tinged with true terror, but the possessed vampire was too quick. The sparkly creature that now housed Voldemort ducked under the red light with ease and rushed for the still-bound Drakey-poo's body. Voldemort groped the boy for a moment, a dazzling Cullen smile on his face as he did so, and with a maniacal laugh pulled Malfoy's wand from his hand.

"Professor!" Harry gave a desperate look to Dumbledore, who had a slightly dazed look on his face as he watched Voldemort obtain a new wand.

"Why are you just standing there?" he yelled, panic lacing his voice as he shot another stunner at Edwardmort, who easily avoided this too. _"Do something!"_

Voldemort-possessed Edward gave him a dazzling smile, which was obviously intended to be sinister, and sparkled slowly in the light. "It's useless, boy. The vampire is a perfect weapon against this old fool."

"God damn it," he groaned, running over to try and shake Dumbledore out of his stupor. The wizened old headmaster didn't even seem to notice him, eyes fixed firmly on Voldemort's sparkling chest. "Do something you bastard! Fuck it – _Stupefy! Stupefy!_ Hagrid! Shoot him you twit!"

"Yeh a wizard, 'Arry." Hagrid told him.

"And you're a man with a freaking crossbow! _Use it you oaf!"_

Edwardmort laughed chillingly as he danced around the stunners, and Hagrid blinked at the vampire confusedly, crossbow puttering slightly as he released a few bolts that the man barely had to move to avoid being hit with. The possessed vampire lifted Malfoy's wand and turned to the sparkling faggot still sprawled on the ground.

"_Ennervate."_ he hissed, and roughly pulled the whimpering shit up by his shirt. Malfoy panted softly against his master, beautiful hair sparkling in the light like a shampoo commercial. "I have use for you yet, Malfoy. You will assist me in the ritual. Bring me Potter's blood."

Drakey-poo nodded obediently, turning towards Harry who was now using the headmaster as a shield. Harry glanced at the old man: Dumbledore licked his lips, eyes still locked on Voldemort's sparkling chest. Hagrid was now trying to use his crossbow as a nose-pick.

Oh for fuck's sake.

Voldemort lifted his pilfered wand to curse him, and Harry knew that he wouldn't last long against the most powerful wizard in the world.

He released the binding spell on Bella, in one last desperate act. At this rate all he would have to place his trust in would be the deus-ex machina powers of the Mary-Sue self-insert.

Voldemort's curse came towards him.

He would have to hope it was enough.

(written by **Palindrome**)


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's **(though I suppose in this case it's more of an editor's)** Note**: We've had some friends jump on the bandwagon and join the fun. Two great authors decided to contribute, hopefully more on the way.

Harry's eyes closed a second before the curse struck him, accepting his fate. He felt the rush of air against his face as the curse came within a hair's breadth of striking him when he was suddenly whisked to the floor in a flurry of limbs.

He opened his eyes to see Bella's pale ugly face looking down at him, tears glistening in her eyes.

"I guess we weren't meant to be, Harry," she said, dribbling blood thickly on his face.

"What?" he asked stupidly, an expression of disgust marring his features.

"I knew I loved you from the moment I saw you," she said, making gurgling noises in the back of her throat. She lifted a weak hand to his face and stroked a single finger down his cheek. "Remember me as I was."

Then she swooned dramatically off him and laid still, her eyes open and staring expressionless at the sky above but her chest still swelled as she breathed. Harry rose, wiping blood off his face and looked down at her in complete confusion, Edwardmort came to stand next to him and they both stared at her.

"What the fuck?" asked Edwardmort in a surprisingly normal tone of voice.

"You said it," replied Harry and poked her with his foot; she didn't move.

The loud thunk of Hagrid's crossbow and his subsequent painful scream ruined the moment somewhat. Harry turned to see the half giant running around in small circles with a vast crossbow bolt lodged in his nose and blood streaming from his nostril. Edwardmort made a low noise of bewilderment, and then seemed to return to the spirit of the evening.

"Well I suppose I'm going to have to kill you now anyway," said Edwardmort, then his voice slipped back into his usual overly-dramatic soprano. "STAND STILL POTTER, I'M GOING TO END YOUR SHIT!"

He turned back to Edwardmort to see his wand raised and levelled at him. Harry realised with a shrill pang of terror that he had no more options. Hagrid was busy with his makeshift lobotomy, Dumbledore with lusting over Edwardmort and Bella with playing dead. He was alone at the end of the Dark Lord's wand.

Fortunately, Edwardmort hadn't counted on the severe retardation of his host body and his first attempt to incant the killing curse failed miserably.

"Arvardar Kedarghrar!" cried Edwardmort and a bunch of daffodils burst from the tip of his wand, falling haphazardly to the floor.

Edwardmort frowned, mouthing the syllables again and lifted a hand as though asking Harry to hold on a moment. Then he mouthed the syllables again and smiled triumphantly.

"Avada Kerrang!" he cried and the sickly burst of green light that Harry knew from his dreams flew toward him.

For the second time in five minutes Harry closed his eyes in preparation for the inevitable which never came. Instead there was a loud reverberating clang, as though someone had banged two dustbin lids together. He opened one eye a centimetre to see a giant silver shield floating before him.

He looked around wildly for the source of the magic, before his eyes fell upon a striking figure standing a little behind Edwardmort.

His curly blonde hair was swept slightly across his face, as though caught in a non-existent wind. His cloak, swept stylishly across one shoulder, also rippled menacingly, despite the fact that the branches of the trees remained perfectly still. A large toothy smile was plastered across his handsome face.

"Never fear Harry," he said confidently, striding forward into the light from Edwardmort's sparkly skin. "I'll take care of this sorry excuse for a wizard."

It was Gilderoy Lockhart; they were saved.

(written by **enembee**)


	10. Chapter 10

"Wow," Harry breathed. "Thank you for the-"

"There's no need," Lockhart said with an elegant and dismissive wave of the hand. "There'll be a time in the future where you pledge to gift me your teeth so I can continue to win Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award, but that time is not now."

Harry, whose teeth were in a horrible state thanks to years with the Dursleys and Hagrid's rock cakes, nodded absently. Maybe this idiot would get himself killed before the night was through. If the sparkly glare on Edwardmort's face was any indication, it was possible.

"You were always a favourite student of mine, Harry. How have you been?" Lockhart asked, swishing his wand back and forth but ultimately not achieving anything. "Still practising your dramatic readings?"

Harry, who at this point was only a first year and had no idea that Lockhart actually taught him in his second year, but for the sake of this story had heard of the man through Hermione's post-Christmas ramblings, unaware that Hermione had played with herself for the first time to the mental image of Lockhart riding a unicorn on a beach while reading from Shakespeare, just nodded again, even more absent than the last. And as to why Lockhart had knowledge of teaching Harry but had not been Obliviated, lets just say some monkey signed a magical contract or something. It could happen.

Edwardmort cleared his throat, either to grab attention or to get the glitter out of his lungs. "You are a fool, Lockhart. You have no hope in beating me."

"No?" Lockhart raised a perfectly maintained eyebrow. "How many times have you won Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award, Cullen?"

Edwardmort scoffed. "You know just as well as I do they give you that award because we are in Britain, and nobody else in this country believes in proper hygiene."

Lockhart, who was Swedish of course, shot him a dazzling smile. "Jealous?"

Edwardmort's wand snapped up and shot off a dark curse. Lockhart shot Harry a heroic look and hefted his weight around deftly, twirling his wand like a baton and conjuring a solid platinum shield. The vampire's curse deflected off the shield's surface, and Lockhart paused to take a moment and look at his reflection in the shield. Evidently pleased with what he saw in the shield's surface, he banished it away in a puff of turquoise-coloured smoke, grinning dashingly as Edwardmort prepared another curse.

Lockhart got to him first, shooting out a bright orange spell. The spell hit Edwardmort's neck, a dark burn sizzling the vampire's alabaster skin. Edwardmort cried out and looked at the blemish in horror.

"Important spell, that one is," Lockhart said sagely. "Burn off those unwanted hairs, of course. Can't have a ratty beard all over-" he ran a hand over the smooth skin on his cheeks. "-_this_, can I?"

Harry, his neck already sore from all this absent nodding, nodded again. The thought occurred that, you know, walking away from this whole mess might be the best thing, and he tried to take the opportunity. Unfortunately, his first step had him trip over Bella's plain-looking still form, and for the rest of this battle, he suddenly found himself on the ground and trying to disentangle himself from the girl's body.

Meanwhile, Lockhart and Edwardmort's duel turned fierce. Unimaginable magics spat back and forth over the battlefield, from Edwardmort's Blood-Boiling Curses to Lockhart's patented Hair-Curling Charms. While Edwardmort dealt with the sudden curliness in his perfectly-kept locks, Lockhart would conjure his favourite Mirror Spell, which also happened to double as a handy shield. Spell after spell would fall victim to Lockhart's shield, and spell after spell would begin to warp Edwardmort's features. Lockhart crowed in triumph as his Tweezer Charm poked Edwardmort in the eye.

"You cannot win, Cullen," Lockhart spat, though in a pleasant and dashing sort-of way. From his spot on the ground, Harry rolled his eyes. Lockhart's cloak rippled in the non-existent breeze once more. "I have banished your kind before."

"Dark Lords?" Edwardmort hissed. "Or..." he shuddered in orgasmic pleasure as the word passed his own lips. "_Vampires_..."

Lockhart smiled. "Both, of course. Not to mention, I have destroyed beings with more power than you in one important field, my boy."

"Oh?"

"Oh yes. I have dealt with over-actors before."

Edwardmort's face twisted in a pretty rage. "WHAT?"

Lockhart didn't use his wand, but the effect his words had were enough of a curse to Edwardmort's vanity. "Oh yes. Large hams, we in the business call them. I have-" He paused and chewed at the scenery, ironically. "TRIUMPHED over them! I once destroyed the biggest over-actor in all of tinsel town."

"And who would that be?"

Lockhart, his hair moving in its own well-kept way, his cloak rippling, his handsome face bright and his lithe form standing tall in the cold, sparkly night. "Nicholas. Cage."

The force of Lockhart's words propelled Edwardmort back a few steps, his mouth wide and gaping in shock. "You dare-"

"I do," Lockhart said simply. He raised his wand. "I am the best man for the job, obviously. Stand back everyone, there's nothing here to see. Just imminent danger and in the middle of it?" He puffed himself up. "_Me_."

Harry averted his eyes to avoid getting blinded by the ass-kicking that followed. He finally stood up and left Bella's corpse behind, turning to see Hagrid.

"Holy shit-"

"Yer a wizard, 'Arry, an' a thumpin' good on' at tha'," Hagrid said, though his words were somewhat disturbed by the fucking arrow hanging through his giant nostril. He sneezed blood all over Harry, who was so desensitised by now that he could only shrug it off and absently wipe blood and snot off of his glasses.

"Hagrid, can we fucking get out of here?" Harry begged. He heard a feminine shriek - either Edwardmort or Lockhart - and ignored it. "Please. I will pay you. Gold. Lots of it. I will pay you in German pornography. I will find you a girlfriend. Anything."

Hagrid's smile widened, and the arrow dug in deeper. He said nothing, though he really looked like he wanted to. Something about thumpin' good wizards, or something just as out of character for him to say.

Harry shifted his focus to the epic duel. Both wizards were taking a moment, fixing their hair and making sure their clothes weren't clashing with the spells they were firing at each other. Edwardmort's red eyes gleamed as he spotted Harry watching the battle, and he let out a soft sound of surprise.

"Oh right," he said. "Supposed to take care of you..."

"I don't mind," Harry shouted. Hagrid stepped forward, accidentally crushing Bella's chest with his giant boot. He thumped Harry on the shoulder. "We should get going, actually-"

"No! Stay!" Lockhart cried. "I'm about to win this one!"

Edwardmort sneered. "You may have that silly award and you may've destroyed Nicholas Cage, but you are forgetting JUST ONE THING."

"What?"

Edwardmort flicked his wand. "I have more fans than you do! _Avada Kadabra_!"

Lockhart reeled from Edwardmort's veritable bitchslap and couldn't conjure a shield in time. He was about to protest, to tell the Dark Lord vampire thing that he had gone too far this time, when the sickly green jet of light hit him in the chest. The force of the spell, in dramatic fashion, propelled him back and he hit the ground, hair and cloak still rippling in the still air.

Harry gaped. Somewhere back in Hogwarts, Hermione Granger woke up from a nice dream and felt a disturbance in her panties. And not a good one, at that.

But, to the surprise of all the audience out there, Lockhart rose, pushing dust off of his shoulders. Everybody gaped, and Hermione went back to sleep with a small smile.

"Your powers are no match for mine, I'm afraid," Lockhart declared. "I will destroy you-"

And then he was cut off by Hagrid's cry of "Zombie!", and the sound of Hagrid pulling the arrow out of his face and throwing it like a javelin, the projectile whistling through the air and directed at Lockhart's face.

(written by **MattSilver_3k**)


	11. Chapter 11

_Previously on Hipshit Sparklepuff..._

_Lockhart and Edwardmort face off in a duel of epic proportions, spewing death curses, girlish screams, and worst of all – bad hair-day jinxes. Just as the balance seems to tip in our protagonist's favour Edwardmort delivers an insult so terrible, so bitchy, that Lockhart is left wide open to his glittery rays of death. The future defence professor is struck with the killing curse. Not that he lets that affect him..._

"Your powers are no match for mine, I'm afraid," Lockhart declared. "I will destroy you-"

And then he was cut off by Hagrid's cry of "Zombie!", and the sound of Hagrid pulling the arrow out of his face and throwing it like a javelin, the projectile whistling through the air and directed at Lockhart's face.

It hit dead on, throwing Lockhart's head backwards as the bolt buried itself through the man's cheek and stuck halfway out through the other side. Lockhart, however, didn't let that stop him from letting everyone know just how painful a bolt to the skull was. The guy didn't even fall over.

"My face!" he protested, looking scandalised.

Hagrid squealed in fright and shot another few bolts into him. Each thudded softly into his skin.

"I say," he tried, but was interrupted by another crack of the crossbow and the man winced as he was struck in the calf. "That's terribly rude, you know."

Harry blinked at the man who'd just stood up again from being hit with the killing curse, and who was now still talking with a dozen crossbow bolt holes in him.

"Zombie!" The half-giant continued shooting frantically, ignoring Lockhart's annoyed expression as he lost an ear.

"Well," he huffed. "If I'd known this is how I'd be treated when I got here, I wouldn't have bothered coming." With a wave of his wand, the skin around the wound reverted back to its usual lustre – except that Lockhart still had huge fucking crossbow bolts sticking out of him.

"Blemish-removing charm, of course, Harry." The new blonde ponce – not to be confused with Draco, but who knew where the fuck he'd gone off to – said with a saucy wink at Harry. Harry shuddered slightly.

Hagrid was still squealing and trying to shoot Lockhart in the way a terrified six year old might try to crush a spider or swat a fly.

"Hagrid, stop shooting him and let's just get the fuck out of here!" Harry commanded.

The half-giant blinked at him with wide eyes. "Zombie!" he protested.

"Hagrid," he warned. "Who am I?"

The giant man rumbled uncertainly, blood spraying out of his mouth from the crossbow wound. "Yer a wizard, 'Arry."

He raised his eyebrows. "And?"

"Yer a thumpin' good on' at tha'."

"That's right, Hagrid. Now listen to the good wizard and _stop shooting Lockhart."_

The man lowered his crossbow, looking chastised.

There was a cough from across the clearing. "Why aren't you dead, man?" Edwardmort interrupted, sounding annoyed. He sparkled gently in the soft dawn light. Harry was disappointed: he'd vaguely been hoping that the sunlight would hurt him. Not so, it seemed. He just sparkled more.

Lockhart honestly seemed surprised. "Why should I be dead?" Then, ignoring them, he conjured up a mirror and tutted at the reflection. The crossbow bolt was wedged firmly through his cheek bone. "Honestly, it took me weeks to get this cheek right, and now you've ruined it!" He gave a little tug on the wooden shaft but it didn't budge.

Harry checked him for signs of sparkling. "(future) Professor, please don't tell me you're some kind of immortal."

"An immortal?" the man asked, genuinely confused, and looked up from his mirror at the boy. "What are you talking about?"

"The, uh, hit with the killing curse thing. Probably the arrow wounds too."

"Don't be silly, Harry." he scoffed. "It would take something greater than that to do away with the most esteemed man in _Witch Weekly_!" Absently he cast a spell at the bolt lodged in his face. It didn't remove it, but it certainly did polish the wood up until it gleamed – Lockhart didn't just have a crossbow bolt wedged in his face, he had a _fabulous_ crossbow bolt wedged in his face. "Incidentally, I was wondering if, if it's not too much of a bother, you could possibly lend me your, ah..." He gave a huge, almost orgasmic shudder, _"braaaiiinnnss?"_

At that exact moment in time, somewhere in the Gryffindor tower, Hermione Granger suddenly decided that she was A-Okay with necrophilia.

Harry backed away. "Oh. Bugger."

"Er... that's a no, then?" The man asked, sounding disappointed. "It really wouldn't hurt that much, you know. Just a quick nibble and you'll be back to your veritable celebrity self in no time!" He smiled brightly. "And appearance charms do _wonders_ for all that rotting skin business."

Edwardmort grit his teeth. "Why does everyone seem to get hold of the immortality gig before me?" he asked frustratedly.

Lockhart swirled around to face him. "Oh yes, I was in the middle of defeating you, wasn't I?" He raised his voice dramatically, "PREPARE TO DO BATTLE, FEIND!" With that, he started walking stiffly towards the possessed vampire with his arms outstretched, groaning softly about grey matter.

Edwardmort squealed.

As Harry watched the two run around, Lockhart chasing and Edwardmort looking like he was trying to avoid cooties, he briefly thought of how much easier this situation would be if he actually knew any spells.

There was body bind curse, but that one had already been severely overused and frankly everyone was bored of it. He knew how to make a light, but that wasn't exactly useful if one wanted to smite some shiny vampire ass, and he knew how to turn a matchstick into a needle. He cursed: if only he was older and knew more spells!

He would have used the stunning curse, like he did in an earlier chapter, but he hadn't actually learnt that one yet; as soon as he had the thought to cast it anyway, since he'd already cast it in the story, the thought left his head and he was left to blankly wonder what he'd been thinking about – continuity sucks like that.

He looked around for anything he could transfigure into a needle or something. Maybe he could get lucky and poke Edwardmort's eye out.

"_Avaara Kedaara!"_ Edwardmort shrieked while maintaining Robert Pattinson's signature half-grin on his face ruining his pronunciation. Voldemort was apparently resorting to his standard reaction to things that annoyed or upset him: killing the shit out of them. The green light whizzed around in circles in the air for a second or two, probably tracing the shape of a butterfly, and hit Lockhart in the chest, knocking him to the ground. It did this because J.K. Rowling could never decide what the hell the killing curse actually _did_ when it hit someone, so the writers can take liberty with this sort of thing. If we say the killing curse draws butterflies before it hits it _damn well does, and you had better remember that._

Lockhart, naturally, got back up again from the butterfly curse, and moaned about brains and hair-care products before going after Edwardmort again, who screamed girlishly and kept shooting the killing curse, bereft of all logic that something different would have been more effective.

It's habit: hard thing to break, really. No-one's gotten around to setting up self-help courses to combat one's addiction to the killing curse either. Those sort of things tended to end badly.

Suddenly there was a rustle from across the clearing: everyone froze, and turned to it.

A silver horn appeared from the trees, and then a horse's head covered in fine silky hair came into view, and the unicorn strode proudly out of the trees.

"A unicorn," Lockhart breathed, actual fear tinting his voice. "Nobody move: they're vicious buggers. They'll attack anyone who isn't a virgin – horrible thing to watch, they literally gore their victims and tear out their internal organs while they're still alive. That's why they have the horns, you know."

The unicorn started wondering into the clearing, apparently oblivious of what it was interrupting. Everyone there held perfectly still and waited for it to pass.

"Er," said Harry. "Aren't I safe, though, professor?"

Lockhart looked at him incredulously. "You mean... you haven't?" Harry blinked at what he was implying.

"I'm twelve."

"But... you're a celebrity!"

"I'm _twelve!"_

The zombie professor looked pale. "You never handled it...?"

"Why should I have-"

"**Handle it,** Harry! I can't believe you've never even _tried."_

"I haven't even hit puberty yet!"

Lockhart's reply was interrupted by the unicorn nudging closer. He froze; not that the guy would die from unicorn goring, probably, but then again it wouldn't be pleasant. Harry looked at Edwardmort, who was watching the unicorn with consternation, a cold sweat on his face.

Harry grinned.

Abruptly he charged towards the unicorn, which flicked its tail delightedly when it saw him. The creature tried to nudge its head closer to him, but Harry gave it a firm push towards Edwardmort, who tried his best to scramble away without attracting attention, a look of terror on his face.

Harry moved it close to the possessed vampire, who was now hurriedly trying to run away. Edwardmort was too late in his retreat: the unicorn spotted him and charged over with a whinny, stomping its hooves on the forest floor.

Harry waited for the inevitable goring to happen: Edwardmort tripped over himself while trying to get away, and the unicorn brought its horn down menacingly on the vampire, who couldn't get away in time-

...and nuzzled him.

Harry gaped at it. He looked between the delighted unicorn and the very uncomfortable-looking Edwardmort.

He burst out laughing. "You mean-" he said between chuckles, "You mean the most feared man in Britain, the Dark Lord, is-"

Edwardmort blushed bright red. "It's not what it looks like, Potter." he tried, the unicorn cuddling up to him affectionately. "This must just be a faulty unicorn."

Harry didn't stop laughing.

The vampire grit his teeth. "See? This is why I kill the bloody things!"

Harry gigglesnorted.

"_Ava kedaa!"_ The man snapped, aiming at him. Harry watched the curse draw a smiley face in the air and neatly sidestepped it when it came towards him again.

"_Crucio!"_ he cast, but the unicorn nudged him dotingly in the side, causing his spell to fly completely clear of Harry.

Oh, crap. Edwardmort was angrier than ever now, and was focusing his attention entirely on him. Harry ducked behind Lockhart, dodging Edwardmort's furious curses and screaming obscenities.

He looked around for something, _anything,_ he could use as a weapon. He was getting desperate. Edwardmort needed to be stopped before he managed to curse him. But in the body of the vampire, Voldemort was too fast, too strong and too sparkly to land a hit on. The solution: Harry needed to exorcise Voldemort from the vampire's body.

Yanking two crossbow bolts from Lockhart's leg, and ignoring the girlish shriek of pain from his future professor, he slapped them together into a makeshift cross, tied them together with a few blades of grass, and avoided a killing curse that spelt out 'lol' in the sky (although the denizens of the internet were more prone to pointing out that it looked like a drowning man, these days, so maybe it wasn't lol at all).

With his crudely-constructed cross in one hand and his wand in the other, he attempted to do what he'd done earlier and transfigure the wood into silver, completely oblivious that doing so would again be more transfiguration work then would ever be accomplished in his time at Hogwarts.

It worked: the silver melded together somewhat more, and he was left with a passable silver cross with odd-looking fletchings on two ends. He crowed in triumph at his creation.

"Voldemort!" he called, brandishing the silver cross at him. "I banish thee, demon! Begone!"

Edwardmort blinked at him for a second, before hissing in pain as he spotted the cross. He backed away until he was pressed up against the unicorn.

"Begone!" Harry repeated, grinning like a madman and starting to sprint after his nemesis. Edwardmort howled in pain as Harry came closer, shying away from the cross like it was a radioactive light.

"_Av kedav!"_ he hissed, silently cursing the half-grin that made him look like a stroke victim; the Lolcat-shaped curse was easily avoided and he had to scramble to get away from Harry's Voldemort-specific weapon. He managed to touch the sparkly fiend with the tip of the cross, once: where it touched the skin blistered and burned.

The possessed vampire screamed in agony from the silver bite and retreated to jump onto the unicorn. He kicked it into motion, and suddenly Edwardmort, in all his glittery glory, was galloping away into the sunrise on a sparkly silver pony. It wasn't raining over the forbidden forest, but evidently was raining elsewhere, as across the clouds a rainbow sprang forth and framed Edwardmort's sparkling retreat.

Maybe he should have quit while he was ahead, but Harry finally had the advantage and wasn't about to let that go.

"Hagrid!" he snapped as the unicorn trounced away. "We're going after them!" He lifted his arms up to indicate he wanted to be picked up. Hagrid complied, dropping his crossbow to scoop the boy up and settle him on one of his gigantic shoulders.

"Charge!" Harry ordered. Hagrid faltered, however. He looked back over to the clearing, where Dumbledore lay, possibly near-catatonic from Edwardmort's fangirl-attracting charms.

"Grea' man, Dumbledore." he said. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Fine. You can take him with us too. But just this once, mind! I don't want to lug Dumbledore around everywhere we go."

Hagrid gave him a sunny smile, and scooped Dumbledore up to throw him across his other shoulder. With that, they bounded away.

You might think a half-giant is as slow as his mind tends to be: not so. As Forrest Gump once demonstrated, mindlessly running is actually a talent of the slow thinkers. Hagrid's giant legs covered ground with ease, and as they bounded through the forest at full sprint they started to catch up to Edwardmort's glittering trail.

"There he is – faster, Hagrid! Faster!" Harry cheered as they spotted the unicorn and rider at the edge of the trees.

They burst out of the forbidden forest with a battle-cry, and Edwardmort looked behind him in terror as he rode away on the poncy horse. Suddenly it was a chase across the open grounds of Hogwarts, and as Edwardmort neared the lake in the soft morning sun he could no longer outrun them.

Hagrid barrelled into the unicorn, knocking it and them clear into the water. It slipped with a loud horsey shriek and they hit the water with a crash.

Harry felt like he was being tossed around and battered with a club by the impact that drove him under the water, and he surfaced again, gasping and still clutching onto the makeshift silver cross for dear life.

He splashed around again to see Edwardmort similarly thrown from his ride, coughing up water. Hagrid was apparently standing on the lake bed, although the water was up to his neck, and the unicorn was furiously trying to kill him.

Harry stared at the half-giant. "You aren't a virgin." he stated.

Hagrid smiled toothily at him as he battled the unicorn away with one hand. "Grea' man, Dumbledore..." He made a vulgar thrusting motion with his hips in the water.

Harry vomited in his mouth a little, and hoped that Dumbledore had found some half-troll – maybe one of Millicent Bulstrode's relatives – for Hagrid to love.

"Right. I don't want to know." Harry said, slightly sickened by the thought of it.

"Potter!" Edwardmort cried, looking like a drowned puppy. The water glittered in the sun and the vampire shone brighter. "I'll get you for this! _Avara Keravda!"_ Even attempting to enunciate, the spirit-wraith of Voldemort could not manipulate the mouth of the fabulous vampire well enough to pronounce his curse properly.

Harry splashed around helplessly in the water as he tried to avoid the curse. Ignoring the shape it was carving into the air above them – a small cartoon dong – he frantically paddled towards Edwardmort and thrust the cross at him.

And suddenly something wrapped around his leg.

Harry's scream was cut off as he was roughly pulled into the water and he was jerked down like a ragdoll and suddenly was surfacing again, choking and wheezing in the delicious air as a long tentacle wrapped itself around his waist and held him suspended in mid-air.

A large pink blob surfaced the water and then he was looking into the single giant yellow eye of the giant squid.

Harry couldn't help it: he squealed.

Another tentacle surfaced and dragged Edwardmort up into the air, spluttering with water as Harry did. The man caught sight of Harry, and kicked out in his bind.

The tentacle reached farther up Edwardmort's leg. In Gryffindor Tower, a moan erupted from the First Year Girls Dorm, as a lustful smile broke out on the sleeping Hermione's face. "Oh, yes!" She cried out, to the confusion of her roommates.

"Potter!" Edwardmort screamed as he surfaced momentarily. "I'll kill you!"

"I know, I know." Harry muttered in reply – he had surmised that much himself, from all the evil green light that was being shot his way.

Edwardmort wriggled a hand free of the squid's grip, and attempted once more to shout the incantation for the killing curse. It formed a perfect picture of the Cockmongler's face before striking. Edwardmort's aim, however, was thrown off by the squid jangling him around, and the curse hissed into the water, superheating it and producing a fuckton of steam, because if the curse can propel people out of a building it can certainly also superheat water.

The squid caught the entirety of the steam that hissed up full on the face, and recoiled with a screech, thrashing its many limbs – with people still in them – around wildly.

Harry and Edwardmort were tossed around like puppets, and the motion rattled them, leaving Harry feeling horribly nauseous and Edwardmort feeling not so fabulous.

But in the brief confusion Harry got close enough to thrust the silver cross at Edwardmort, where it latched onto his boiling skin which hissed like a spitting cat, causing the black misty vapour that was Voldemort to seep out.

Edwardmort screamed as he was exorcised, an honest to god scream of unholy agony and rage, and the blisters turned to goo. The squid thrashed, tossing Harry completely clear of the lake to land with a thud on the grounds of Hogwarts, right in front of the main entrance to the Great Hall where the population of Hogwarts was likely just starting to trickle down for breakfast.

The dazed Edward, free of Voldemort and the blemishes on his skin that he'd obtained – after all, a vampire's only power is to look fabulous, it seems – eyed the Giant Squid as he found himself in its clutches. Looking down at the thick, meaty tentacle, he nodded, eyes wide with excitement, and didn't resist as the squid pulled him under.

Harry got up on shaky legs, feeling sore all over – but not as sore as Edward would be, if the squid's giant eye was conveying the emotion Harry thought it was conveying.

He was finally away from it all.

_Finally fucking away._

(written by **Palindrome**)


	12. Chapter 12

The bloodied body of Edward Cullen stumbled through the doors of the Great Hall, drawing gasps from the shocked students and professors.

"Do you believe me now!" Harry snarled. "He just won't die."

"Mr. Potter," McGonagall snapped, a glazed expression crossing her face, "100 points from Gryffindor for insulting such a... magnificent and dignified guest of Hogwarts."

Harry looked at his head of house in shock before turning his attention back to the vampire. Cullen had what appeared to be ectoplasmic residue all over his face, and it made him look like he just finished filming a bukkake porno. Unfortunately, far from being repulsed, the females of Hogwarts seemed instantly taken by the limping vampire.

"Oh my gawd, he's so shinny."

"Look at his hair. It's so...rogue and dangerous."

"Do you think he'd let me touch his goo?"

"They don't make them like that at Hogwarts." Hermione said lustfully. "What do you think he is?"

"No!" Harry took two quick steps over to the Gryffindor table and slapped his friend across the face as hard as he could. "Why did you have to ask that?"

"Sthay it," Edward said with a slight lisp. Obviously having Voldemort expelled from his body had given Cullen some kind of speech impediment.

Hermione licked her lips, and, ignoring the large slap mark on her face, got up from her seat and began walking closer to the vampire.

"Sthay it."

"Sthay it!"

Hermione opened her mouth, but, before she could state the obvious, booming footsteps could be heard. A moment later, a bruised Hagrid entered the great hall, holding Dumbledore under his right arm.

"Hagrid!" Harry said, never more happy to see the retarded gamekeeper.

"Harry," Hagrid said, his eyes flashing a dark red. "Yer a thumpin' good wizard!"

"Hagrid?"

A stupid grin crossed Hagrid's face as he held a limp Dumbledore. "A great man that Dumbledore!" Without hesitation, Hagrid stretch Dumbledore's still body between his arms and raised the headmaster up so that the entire student body could see him. Then, with a move that was straight out of the W.W.E., Hagrid slammed the Headmaster's frail body into the back of his knee before letting the old man fall to the ground."

"Hagrid!" Harry cried out in horror. "Look what you've done!"

"A thumpin' good wizard!" Hagrid said manically. "A thumpin' good on'!"

"Hagrid, I know you're...special and all, but Dumbledore is gay." Harry said, ignoring the fact that Dumbledore being gay was not actually canon but rather a lame after interview done by J.K. Rowling. "Everyone's going to think you're intolerant toward homosexuals now."

Hagrid stomped his foot impatiently, and he gestured to his red eyes. "A thumpin' good wizard, Harry. A thumpin' good on'!"

"I'm sorry Hagrid, but this is for your own good. Maybe if we get out in front of this, we can make it look like something else besides a hate crime. _Petrificus Totalis_!" Harry said, wishing he could use a different spell at this point.

The spell struck Hagrid in the chest and the giant roared with laughter. "Yer a wizard... Potter."

Harry froze. Hagrid never called him Potter, and, come to think of it, when did Hagrid get red eyes?

Suddenly, it all clicked. "Hagrimort?"

"And a thumpin' good on'!" Hagrimort said triumphantly.

Whirling around, Harry angrily walked up to Cullen, continually ignoring the throng of onlookers, who had remained completely frozen during his dialogue with Hagrimort. "This is all your fault!"

As if magically released from their temporarily paralysis, the girls of Hogwarts all stood up in synchrony and drew their wands.

"Potter, you leave him alone!" Katie Bell snarled. "He's my soul mate! I just know it!"

"Say's who?" Angelina Johnson spat, now aiming her wand at her fellow Chaser. "He sparkled at me first!"

"Bullshit! I saw him way before any of you did," Alicia Spinnet said. "His goo will be mine, and we shall sparkle together for eternity!"

"Bitch!"

"Whore!"

"Slag!"

"_Stupefy_!"

"_Stupefy_!"

"_Stupefy_!"

Harry had to duck as every female member of Hogwarts fired the same spell at each other. It was utter and complete madness. Half the student population firing spells while the boys simply looked on in complete and utter confusion at what was happening.

Still, Harry couldn't help but be happy about the impromptu fight. While the girls were clearly insane, he had finally –through an incredibly long and drawn out plot device– learned a new spell.

Raising his wand, Harry took aim and carefully said, "_Stupefy_!"

(Written by **pureb99/The Santi**)


	13. Chapter 13

In the previous installment of this story...

_Still, Harry couldn't help but be happy about the impromptu fight. While the girls were clearly insane, he had finally –through an incredibly long and drawn out plot device– learned a new spell. _

_Raising his wand, Harry took aim and carefully said, "Stupefy!"_

...and the jet of red light that sprung from the tip of the wand hit its mark.

It was chaos in the Great Hall. Everything became a blur of red and the female population forgot about the sparkling faggot that slumped uselessly against the wall in a corner. The teachers tried to restore order, but the sheer amount of stunners flying around was too much for them to handle alone.

The male portion of Hogwarts could've helped cool tempers all around, but it seemed most were content to just sit back out of range and conjure mud over the women. Harry even saw a few snacking on crisps while they watched, their lips stretched into smiles of delight.

"Take that, whore!"

Harry ducked a particularly vicious stunner and dropped under the Gryffindor table. There he found Neville and Ron, both grinning like idiots as they tried to take peeks under the females' skirts. Harry joined.

"Nice," Neville commented. "Oh, look at that one! No knickers!"

Ron whistled appreciatively. "And clean shaven, too!"

Distracted by the fantastic anatomy an eleven-year-old isn't supposed to enjoy, Harry quickly lost sight of Hagrimort. It just went to show how incompetent Voldemort was. Had he thought his scheme through he would've realized the way to go about possessing someone was taking hold of a crack-whore from the red district. Judging by the looks of rapture on Neville, Ron and Harry's faces, clean shaven would've been a nice touch, too.

"What would you guys do with one of those?" Harry asked.

Ron licked his lips and said, "I would play chess on it."

Simultaneously Neville replied, "Trim the bush, dig in with my tools and plant a seed."

Harry cast wary glances at both of them, but Neville and Ron were too far gone to notice. He slowly backed away, not wanting to be told just what their deepest fantasies meant.

He crawled away, presumably in the direction to the exit. Red lights and screams of "Eat this, bitch!" and "I will end your shit!" rang in his years. There was a particularly shrill cry of "Potter! Insufferable brat!" that Harry thought was Snape, but he wisely ignored it and kept moving.

Before he could reach the end of the table the noise ceased abruptly. The last few stunners crashed harmlessly against the walls and the Great Hall was plunged into silence. Harry peeked out from under the table, and amidst the sea of unconscious females lying on the floor and those still standing, most of them completely covered in mud, there was one Severus Snape.

He had been engorged somehow. Snape was easily two times taller than Hagrimort, who was conspicuously missing, and the front of the potion master's robes were open, his grey underwear around his ankles. With a look of bliss on his face Snape was pumping his obscenely large erection, and as everybody shrieked in disgust Harry turned and heaved, and the world turn upside down, and...

...Harry opened his eyes with a start, his breath coming out in heavy pants. Everything was white and he realized he was in the Hospital Wing, and that Snape's grotesque dick had been just a nightmare.

He had probably been stunned right when the impromptu battle started. On one hand, that meant Snape had never grown to retarded proportions and masturbated in the Great Hall, but on the other, all of it being just a dream meant his subconscious had cooked that one up.

He turned to the side and came face to face with a sparkling Edward, who was watching him with a slightly lustful look on his face, lips parted into a half-moan and eyes lidded.

"The hell...?"

"I like watching you sleep," teh Sparkling Hufflepuff said softly. "It's kind of fascinating to me."

Harry's eyes widened.

"FUUUUUUUUU-"

Startled, Madam Pomphrey came over and ordered a couple of seventh years to take the vampire to her office. "And tie him up, boys," she added as they dragged Cedward away. "We wouldn't want him to bother other patients. I'll deal with him later." She fanned herself at the thought.

The drama over, Harry was changing into his regular robes when Hermione and Ron showed up. She was suspiciously bruised around her forehead and arms, and her lips were rather swollen.

"Hey, guys," Harry said. "What's going on?"

"Oh, honestly, Harry!" Hermione cried.

"What?"

She huffed.

Harry turned to Ron. "You alright?"

"Wicked, mate," Ron said. "Bloody hell."

Harry frowned at them. "What's wrong with you two?"

"With us? Wrong with us?" Hermione exclaimed shrilly. "Honestly, Harry. You can't ignore how you feel. It's perfectly normal to miss him. We miss Sirius, too, you know, and –"

"Who's Sirius?"

"– I know he wouldn't like to see you like this." She leaned forward and grabbed his hands tenderly. Harry noted she felt kind of sticky. "Let us help you, Harry. I'm sure Sirius would agree."

"No, seriously," Harry said seriously. "Who the fuck is Sirius? Ha! Get it? Serious!"

The whole Hospital Wing turned and said, "SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

Harry glared at them. People never understood his jokes. He dropped back on the bed with a heavy sigh. It would be one of those day, a long, mind-fuckeringly weird day. He could feel it. He realized that if he knew more spells he'd be able to get out of this one, perhaps spend the day doing something he enjoyed.

When Gilderoy "the pussy licking Zombie" Lockhart entered the wing, Harry had an idea.

Ron chose that moment to ask if he wanted to play some chess, to which Harry shuddered, remembering the dream. He got up. Hermione kept spewing bullshit out of her mouth, but he wasn't listening to her anymore.

Harry called Lockhart, the most awesome, most badass wizard since Merlin Norris, and begged him to teach him a new spell.

Harry didn't miss the look Lockhart gave Hermione as he scratched his groin, nor the way Hermione licked her swollen lips. But in his mind, Harry was envisioning powerful curses and insanely difficult pieces of transfigurations, and had little time for anything else.

"Ah, Harry, my dear boy," Lockhart said grandly. He was so awesome. "What is it that you wish to learn? I could teach you how to...why, I could teach you anything! Just ask away, Harry, ask away."

"I...I want," Harry said indecisively. Thousands of cool enchantments ran through his mind. Finally he looked up, his face a mask of determination, and said, "I want to learn how to kill a Basilisk."

Lockhart blinked. And blinked again.

"A Basilisk?" he repeated awesomely. "Now why would you be worried about such things?"

"I don't know," Harry said. "But I have a feeling it'll be important soon."

"Alright then. Any preferred methods?"

Harry thought about it. "No, not really," he said. "Just not with Gryffindor's sword."

"Yeah," Lockhart said wisely. "That'd be retarded."

They said goodbye to Ron and Hermione and left.

In a not very distant office, in the same castle...

Heavy footsteps hammered the stone staircase. The door to Dumbledore's office was slammed open and Snape strode in, his cloak billowing behind him. Smugly, he cried, "Ten points from Gryffindor."

Dumbledore stood up from behind his desk. His face was grim and foreboding. "You shouldn't have come here tonight, Severus," he said calmly. "The Aurors are on their way."

"By which time I shall be gone, and you – wait, what?"

Unnoticed by them, Fawkes slapped its forehead with a golden wing and the portraits that lined the walls banged their heads against the frames that bound them.

Snape ignored the confusing words of the Headmaster and instead said incredulously, "You survived? I heard your spine break!"

Dumbledore smiled benevolently and sat down, gesturing for Snape to do so as well. "It does not do to dwell on dreams," he said, "lest we forget to live."

Snape nodded dumbly, impressed by the Headmaster's wise words. But before he could say anything someone cleared his throat.

From one of the high shelves, the Sorting Hat leaned forward, so that it was looking down at the two wizards that regarded it politely. It opened its brim wide and spoke.

"Yo, Albus, I'm really happy for you, I'mma let you finish... but Hagrimort had one of the best resurrections of all time...OF ALL TIME!"

Fawkes trilled his agreement.

Snape stood up and furiously spat, "How dare you! Twenty points from Gryff –"

But the Hat silenced him with a non-eyed glare. It twitched awkwardly and a strange, long object fell on Dumbledore's desk, right in front of the venerable Headmaster.

"Yo, dawg," the Hat began, "I heard you like dildos, so I –"

"ENOUGH! Dumbledore called imperiously. "Do not disrespect me, Hat. This is Hogwarts...AND I RUN THIS SHIT!"

Fawkes, the poor, neglected Phoenix had had enough. He spread his wings, dropped a piece of shit on his Master's head and flew out the window. He needed a new Master, preferably one who didn't try to wipe his old, shrivelled ass with his delicate feathers.

The portraits inside the office watched the bird fly away with jealous looks on their faces.

(contributed by **IdSayWhyNot**)


End file.
